Enough
by Xenitha
Summary: Author's Note: What makes a man? According to a folk song, a true man has the strength enough to build a home, time enough to hold a child and love enough to break a heart. Where does Bruce fall? (Fluff warning)
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This bunny has been chewing on me ever since I bought the Steeleye Span "Wintersmith" album and listened to the song "The Making of a Man". I have given the song my own interpretation. You can hear it at /#!pl=5d8593d83b773bf5edf9ec9ad3aabc20e0669e1b

I had asked for stories about why we first fell for Dick Grayson. I've always loved Dick for the incredibly close relationship he and Bruce have. They are father and son and the best of friends, no other duo in the comics can match them. This story will have 3 chapters. 

ENOUGH

"The Making of a Man"

_You have:_

_Gold enough to buy a bean_

_Silver enough to coat a pin_

_Lead enough to ballast a bird_

_But that just isn't enough to make you a man._

_A man has strength enough to build a home_

_And time enough to hold a child..._

_And love enough to break a heart._

_(The Making of a Man, by Steeleye Span)_

1. Build a Home

"Is he asleep?" Bruce Wayne asked, yawning. He'd been out late tonight, trying to hunt down Zucco. He'd cleared his calendar and was spending both his daylight and nighttime hours hunting that murderer. Consequently, he'd missed most of Dick's sleeping woes.

Alfred lifted a finger to his lips and gestured for his master to follow him down the stairs. Once in the study, the butler closed the door gently and turned to the man he'd raised, frowning. "If you were home, Master Dick wouldn't have these nightmares. He needs you, sir."

A familiar feeling of guilt rose in Bruce's chest. He pushed it down with more than his usual ferocity. He _was_ looking after Dick, or his interests, anyway. Batman was closing in on the man who had killed the boy's parents and Bruce Wayne himself was providing the friendless child with a home, new clothing, care, in the form of Alfred. "I'm doing all this for him, Alfred. He deserves justice, and he'll have it!" Bruce was conscious that his lower lip was protruding, as it often had during childhood disagreements with Alfred.

Alfred merely pursed his lips and folded his arms. "He is not my son, sir. You have filed the adoption papers and you are currently legal guardian. A gentleman always takes his responsibilities seriously and fulfills them to the best of his ability."

"Are you saying that I'm neglecting Dick?" Bruce demanded.

"He has not demanded justice of you, nor has he asked about Zucco since we took him in. He has, however, asked me many times when you are coming home and whether you like him at all. And today," Alfred's lips pursed even more tightly. "Today, sir, he asked to go home."

"Home? This is his home,"Bruce said.

"Home. As in, the circus. He told me that since you didn't seem to have any time for him, he felt that he should relieve you of the burden of his care. He felt that he could earn his way, as he always has, by performing at the circus. He didn't believe that you would mind. I was able to persuade him to refrain from packing his bag until tomorrow and you had a chance to discuss the matter with him. He does not see Wayne Manor as his home, sir. Nor has it been much of a home since your parents' death," Alfred said, gesturing around with an arm. "The furniture is old and dated, as is the carpeting. You have ignored my many requests to update the kitchen and bathrooms, saying that it didn't bother you and therefore it didn't matter. You put more time into the gadgets for your cave than you do into the house you occupy. And occupy is all you do, sir!" Alfred stormed to the study door and opened it. "When you decide that you want to actually _live_ here, sir, do inform me! And tell me whether young master Dick is intended to be some kind of exotic pet or your son. At least in the circus, he was loved and not ignored." Without another word, Alfred stormed through the door, shutting it behind him.

Bruce was left speechless. He hadn't bothered with the house much, beyond making sure that the roof was weather-tight. And now, he had a child to care for. He sat down in his armchair, thinking hard.

He'd been so focused on Batman, training for the job, working at establishing himself, patrolling his city, that he'd forgotten the rest of his life. Did he regret taking in the boy? No. He'd felt a connection to Dick Grayson from the moment he'd seen the boy crying in the center ring. He knew that he could give Dick the kind of life he'd never had. He still intended to. But just what did that mean?

He could send Dick to boarding school, give him an excellent education. Of course, that was what his uncle had done with him and how had that turned out? Bruce's long, lonely boyhood ran through his memory. He hadn't had a home, either. Just a room at school that he had to leave for holidays at his uncle's sterile estate. Dick deserved more. He deserved a real home with a real family.

Was he up to it? Could he...love? The last people Bruce had known that he loved were his parents and Alfred, of course. What makes a good home for a child?

He stood. The most important thing for a child was having a parent who loved and cared for him. Everything else was secondary. He glanced around the room, eyed the threadbare upholstery on the couch. He could upgrade a little more, too. He strode across the room, out the door, and tiptoed up the stairs.

He heard Dick crying through the closed door. By the dim nightlight, he saw a small lump under the covers, shaking a little with sobs. Abruptly, he remembered the nights after his parents died and how very alone he had felt and his heart melted.

"Hey, now," he said softly and sat on the bed. He laid a hand on the lump, rubbing Dick's back. "It's okay, Dick. You want to talk about it?"

The lump, still covered, shook its head, but the sobbing diminished to a gulping sound.

"Well, I'll talk then," Bruce said. "I've got the day off tomorrow. I thought we could spend the time together. Alfred says we need some new furniture and we'll start with your room. D'you want to help me pick it out?"

The covers slid down, revealing a small boy with bright blue eyes. "You mean, I c'n have a bed that isn't the size of a VW?"

"It is a very big bed for a small boy," Bruce agreed. "We can get something smaller and friendlier, I think."

"With a Superman logo, ya think?" Dick asked eagerly while Bruce quietly winced.

"If that's what you want," Bruce said. "But we'll see what 's out there, huh?" He gathered up the boy and held him close. After an astonished moment, Dick cuddled into him with such enthusiasm that it was clear he'd been longing for a snuggle for some time. Head on Dick's chin, Bruce felt all the stress of the day fall away. Building a home for this boy? He could do that.


	2. Chapter 2

TIME ENOUGH TO HOLD A CHILD

You have phosphor enough to light the town,

And poison enough to kill a cow.

But that just isn't enough to make you a man.

You have iron enough to make a nail,

And lime enough to paint a wall.

But that just isn't enough to make you a man.

A man has strength enough to build a home,

And time enough to hold a child... 

Robin, age 12

Alfred sighed and closed his eyes. He seldom had to call the League Watchtower and felt uncomfortable with the radio set up.

"Yeah, I know, Alfred. His kid's sick" said Hal Jordan, aka the Green Lantern. "You'd think he'd realize that's why most of us don't have families...Anyway, Batman and the rest of the League is out past Mars, hunting down alien scout ships. I'd be there too if it wasn't my turn to answer the damned phone!"

"I realize that, Mr. Jordon. I did try to radio him myself, but I can see that he's out of range. Can you please try to contact him in whatever way you can?" Alfred allowed a note of pleading to enter his voice. "He would want to know."

"He's busy, Alfie, knocking monsters out of the sky," Jordan said, patience running thin. "And the team is on radio silence, but the next time anybody calls in I'll relay the message. Okay? And you can stop calling me."

"I assure you, Mr. Jordan, that I will most certainly continue to call until I know that Master Bruce has been notified of the situation at home," Alfred said heatedly.

"All right, I'll do my best. Watchtower out," Green Lantern said and cut the line.

Alfred made his way up the stairs, grumbling under his breath, "...can certainly understand why the Master does not like Green Arrow..." At the ground level, he cocked his head to listen. Silence. Perhaps the lad was asleep at last...? But no...

"Bruuuuuuuce...!" a child's voice wailed from the room at the top of the stairs. "Batman! Noooo!" The sentence ended in a scream as the old butler scrambled to dash up the stairs. Opening the door, he found the twelve year old boy perched on top of his tall wardrobe, face red and sweating.

"Master Dick! Master...Oh, dammit, Robin, ROBIN! Come down from there this instant!" Alfred shouted to the swaying child.

The boy tried to focus bleary eyes onto Alfred. "Batman? Is that you? Is the Joker gone?"

"He's gone, lad. Come on down now," Alfred said gently and lifted both arms. "Come now and I'll catch you...Oof! You're growing, aren't you?" Alfred caught the boy and supported him back to the bed.

"You're not Batman..." the boy said wonderingly. "You're Alfred."

"Yes, Master Dick, I am. And it's time for you to rest now, unless you'd like some hot cocoa," Alfred said, while tucking the boy in. Batman and Robin had both been hit by Scarecrow's fear toxin a day ago and both had been dosed with the antidote. Batman was fine and Robin had seemed well, also. But eight hours after Batman had left for secret League business, the toxin had attacked the boy with rising effect.

Master Bruce had never had a delayed reaction to the Scarecrow's fear toxin but Master Dick was apparently different. He had readministered all the standard antidotes, but none of them had worked. Leslie had opined that Dick possessed an allergy to the current toxin, which was enhancing its strength and duration. The only choices were to formulate a new antidote, alas beyond Alfred's meagre capabilities. Or for the lad to ride it out. Alfred shuddered at the thought.

Knowing that the Master was incommunicado, he had tried to call Barry Allen to make up an antidote, but alas, the Flash was out on the same emergency. During the last twenty four hours, the boy had tried to fight off or run from every enemy the Dynamic Duo had ever faced, seemingly without rest, despite Alfred's best efforts.

The great chandelier in the vestibule would never be the same and he was keeping the tall ladder set up just in case Robin felt a need to flee to it again.

He hoped, intensely that Batman would get the message soon. The boy couldn't go to hospital without endangering Batman and Robin's identities. There was nothing a hospital could offer him in any case. Even the tranquilizers that Leslie had deemed safe weren't working; the boy's adrenalin was too jacked up.

He couldn't even cuff the lad down! The boy was small enough to wiggle his way out of them, being almost as expert as his mentor in escapology. And the one time he'd tried tying him...Alfred eyed the bandages around the boy's wrists that covered the wheals from where he'd broken the ropes.

"Batman!" Dick sat up, eyes staring at the distance. "They're killing Batman! Nooooooo! I've gotta help him!"

Alfred took in a long breath and leapt back into action trying to restrain an anguished Boy Wonder. 

* * *

A space-suited Batman stared through the window of the borrowed Thanagarian space ship. "My scans show that there are fifty more of them out there, Clark," he said crisply into his headset. "I still think that we should detach Jordan for this."

"Not necessary," Wonder Woman replied over the open line. "We have Lanterns Stewart and Gardener to handle things here, as well as the rest of us. And you know that we decided at last month's meeting that keeping an open line of communication was important."

"And you recall that I voted against it...Diana! At your twelve o'clock!" Batman replied and gunned the ship towards the raider.

He had just finished dispatching the ship and was on the hunt for others when his line crackled. "Bruce? It's me, Kal... You have your primary radio off again, don't you?"

"When I'm on a mission, I don't call home and I don't need spam from the Watchtower," Batman replied crisply. "Is your message in any way related to what we're doing right now?"

"No," Clark's voice sounded just a bit testy. "But it might interest you to know that your butler has been calling the Watchtower constantly for the past six hours. You're needed at home. Urgently. Hal finally decided to break radio silence after Alfred tried out a variety of cuss words that Hal had to admit were new to him!" The line crackled emptily for a full minute. "Bruce? Did you hear that?"

"We...have a mission," Batman said tightly. "Alfred is capable of handling almost anything at home." Unseen by his compatriots, Batman's face and body had stilled. His relationship with Robin was a known weakness, as much as he tried to disguise it behind a businesslike manner. Batman struggled with himself. The mission was primary, Alfred understood that. But what if Robin was hurt or sick? Images of a very young boy at the circus, crying, swam before his eyes. No matter how mature or grown up Dick ever got, he'd always be that small boy to Bruce; someone to be protected and guarded. He forced the words out, "Did he say what was wrong?"

"Just that something's wrong with Robin and he needs you home immediately," Superman said.

Diana broke in on the line. "We can handle this, Bruce. Go home. Alfred wouldn't have sworn at Hal if it weren't important. You, more than anyone, know how important family is."

Batman found himself standing before he realized it. "Clark...?"

"Already here," the airlock door opened. "I thought you might like a ride down. Shall we?" 

* * *

An hour later, Superman dropped Bruce Wayne at his own doorstep. "I see him, upstairs in what I think is his bedroom and Alfred's there, too," Clark said. "Go!"

Wordlessly, Bruce opened the door and ran up the stairs. He met Alfred on the landing outside Dick's bedroom door. The butler was in considerable disarray. His tie was crooked, and were those rips in his perfectly pressed trousers?

"What's going on?" Bruce demanded. "I left a space battle after you swore at Hal Jordon!"

Alfred grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him down the hall, away from the door. "If I'd known that impolite language would get the job done, I'd have tried it sooner! Space battle?!" Alfred gave a snort. "Try the sort of battle I've been fighting with Master Dick for the past day!"

"What's wrong with him?" Bruce asked, finally recognizing the sheer weariness in Alfred's demeanor.

"During your last patrol, you and the lad took a good dose of the Scarecrow's latest fear toxin. When you came home, I administered the standard antidote and we thought it had worked," Alfred took a once-white handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his face. "It didn't, or rather, Master Dick had a delayed reaction to the toxin. Leslie thinks that he has an allergy to some of the components. In any case, the lad believes that Robin is under attack and must save you. He has been fighting steadily for the past twenty four hours and calling for you, sir."

"That long?" Bruce gulped. "Why hasn't he passed out from that much stress?"

"He hasn't slept and he hasn't stopped. Sedatives don't work. I've fished him down from the chandelier, his wardrobe, your wardrobe and every high point inside the house! The only thing that will reassure him is you!" Alfred stuffed the hankie back into his pocket and began to drag his master back to the boy's bedroom.

Bruce opened the door quietly and was appalled at the destruction to the boy's room. The wallpaper was clawed. The long drapes had been pulled down and the mahogany finish of the tall wardrobe was scuffed and scratched. And the boy himself... He let himself into the room and closed the door behind.

Dick was tossing and turning, his face red and eyes glassy, classic symptoms of fear toxin poisoning. "Batman...gotta save Batman...Can't let him down..." The boy glanced sightlessly into the distance, his eyes burning dark holes in his face.

"Robin, calm down," Bruce said, lowering himself into the side chair which, he noted, was losing its stuffing. "The mission is over and I'm fine, thanks to you."

"Batman?" Dick sat up, arms reaching. Bruce moved closer, finally sitting on the side of the bed. He gathered him up in both arms, holding him close. The heat that the child was generating was intense; he wondered whether Alfred had tried bathing him in cool water...

"I'm here," Bruce said, voice deep, in Batman's register. "You're safe. It's okay now."

"It's okay? They're gone?" Dick asked, searching his face and finally patting his cheek. "You're not a hallucination, are you? I've been seeing a lot of those..."

"No, I'm not a hallucination," Bruce said with a half smile. "I'm really here and I'm not going anywhere until you're feeling better." He gathered him into his arms. "Let's try a cool shower for you, pal."

Dick snuggled into his chest. "Okay. As long as you're real."

During Dick's shower, the boy refused to let go of Bruce's hand and kept hold of him while he was towel dried and dressed in fresh pajamas. Bruce noted that Alfred had changed the sweaty and torn bed sheets in their absence.

"Let's tuck you in again, Dick," Bruce said, leading the boy back to his bed.

"You're not going away again, are you?" Dick asked. "I m..mean, I'm brave and everything, I j..just..."

"I'll be here as long as you need me," his mentor said, pulling a light sheet over his boy. "Do you want me to sit here with you?"

"Yeah. Like before." Dick patted the side of the bed and Bruce slid over, putting his arm around the boy and cradling him close. With a deep sigh, Dick settled in.

"Better? Dick?" Bruce asked and looked down at his son. The boy was fully relaxed and asleep at last. He tightened his grip on his child and let himself relax too.


	3. Chapter 3

3. Love Enough to Break a Heart

A man has strength enough to build a home,

And time enough to hold a child,

And love enough to break a heart.

*Based on Batman #408, some dialogue taken from the comic issue. 

* * *

Robin, age 18

Batman shrugged himself further into his cape. The weather was filthy, as Alfred would say. The rain poured down in sheets and there was no protection from it on this rooftop. But the Joker was here, so here was where he needed to be. The Joker had stolen a famous necklace, which itself had a bloody history of causing death and mayhem, giving it the nickname "smile of death". True to its history, the Joker had killed two security guards to get it.

Joker had his own moods, ranging from what, for him, was relative calm to fiendishly manic. He was in one of his manic moods today. That meant that the clown wasn't only unpredictable, he was dangerously so. The stolen diamond necklace sparkled around Joker's neck and he carried a Saturday night special, the same type of cheap pistol that had killed Bruce Wayne's parents. Batman repressed a shudder. Robin was still on his way up to the roof, for which he was grateful. Maybe he could disarm the hood before Robin was endangered.

"Give it up, Joker! There's no place left to run!" Batman barked out.

Joker's grin grew broader. "Don't make me laugh, my batty friend! This is the pinnacle of my career!" he cackled proudly. "Feast your eyes on these! The so-called 'Hopeless Diamonds', the 'Smile of Death'! A triumph I achieved alone, no henchmen to sully its purity!"

Batman's eyes flicked over to a movement behind the Joker. Robin had just crested the top of the building, coming up behind the clown.

"I'll give you purity!" Batman stalked towards the clown, who raised the gun.

"Uh, uh, uh! I don't share your absurd anti-firearms fetish, remember..." Joker grinned as Robin climbed over the parapet to stand behind him. But the boy dislodged a single piece of gravel, which made a slight 'chik!' noise.

Joker swiveled and fired off two shots before Batman could stop him. As the heel of Batman's hand was driving into Joker's nose, Robin toppled over the side of the building.

Batman ran to where the rope was taut. "Robin!" Batman cried. "Robin? My, God. Robin!" His partner, tangled in his rope, hung from his feet down the side of the building, blood pouring from his shoulder.

From behind him, a hated voice chanted, "Ha ha ha! Sing along with _me_, Batman! When the red red robin goes bob-bob-bobbin' along!" Another loud laugh. Batman ignored him, still gazing down, aghast.

The Joker frowned. He didn't like it when Batman didn't pay attention to him. But what to do? What to do? "I could exterminate the bat while he's preoccupied with his winged bird..." he muttered to himself, chuckling at the pun. "Hee hee hee...winged him, I did...But if I shoot the Batman, who would I have to play with?"

Meanwhile, Robin had regained consciousness and was slowly trying to pull himself up. "I...I can make it, Batman. GET him!"

Unaccustomed emotion in his voice, Batman called back, "Can you hang on, son? I have a madman to deal with!"

Robin had disentangled himself and was now holding the rope with both hands. "Do it!" he called back.

That was all Batman needed to refocus his attention on the clown. His fists were clenching when both clown and hero were drawn by the noise of a chopper coming in.

Joker brightened. The chopper had been modified into a semblance of Joker's own face, complete with big smile on its nose. "Ah, my ride is here!" A ladder dropped from the copter and the Joker began to climb happily to freedom. Batman grimaced and threw a batarang, knocking the clown off the ladder and back to the pavement. He didn't have much time. He had to immobilize that clown, then check on Robin.

Quickly tying the Joker, Batman dashed back to the side of the building. "Robin! I'm on my way to you, boy!" One hand on the rope, he bent over and looked. "Oh my God." He could feel his face pale and ice hit the pit of his stomach. Robin had fallen off the rope and had landed on a ledge four stories below, while he'd been busy dealing with Joker. All for a stupid diamond necklace! He should have let Joker get away with the damned thing and taken care of his boy first. If Robin died from this, it would be his fault.

Grabbing the rope, Batman went over the side head first in a controlled fall until he was on the ledge. Still had a pulse, thank God. There was just enough room for him to sling Robin over his shoulder and climb back up.

On the rooftop again, he cradled Robin in his arms and ran an eye over him. He was breathing without effort; the bullet hadn't hit any vital spot, although the blood loss was potentially serious. Time to go. He slung the boy over his shoulder and swung the two of them away without a backwards glance.

He came to his decision slowly, sitting by Dick's bedside. Alfred was appalled when the two of them arrived, spattered with Robin's blood. Batman had done his best with a field dressing, but it had only slowed the bleeding and not stopped it. It took careful surgery on Alfred's part to repair the nicked artery and finally allow both men to breathe easily again. Not for the first time, Bruce was glad that he and Dick both banked whole blood for emergencies.

Now he sat in an easy chair, watching the coverage of the event. A news helicopter had caught the whole thing and speculation was rampant that Robin had died, another victim of the Joker. Bruce noted Dick's pale face and still form. The boy almost had been. He scrubbed his face with his hands. What had he been thinking? Even the best, the most thoroughly trained person had limits. He could have lost Dick so easily today.

He remembered back to Dick's first days in the mansion. He had been so small and unprotected that Bruce had felt compelled to help him. His own life had been so busy between his roles as Batman and as CEO of the Wayne Enterprises, he would never have had a chance to see the boy if he hadn't recruited him as a partner. The boy had burrowed his way into Bruce's heart. And, Bruce knew, Dick loved him just as much. As a child, Dick had ambushed him with hugs that he'd slowly learned to return with as much gusto as the boy gave them.

The decision he was making would break Dick's heart. Being Robin meant so much to him. It had been his identity for a lifetime and he wouldn't know how to function merely as himself, an ordinary person. He almost wavered then, but remembered what he'd seen. Robin...no, Dick, crumpled on a ledge, bleeding in a pouring rain. No. Never again. This was necessary. Dick deserved a life in the light, not in Batman's dark shadow. His...son...was talented, smart and was already enrolled in a good college. Once he graduated, Bruce would give him responsibility within WE and the boy would build his own career. Eventually, all of WE would belong to Dick and the legacy would be passed to the next generation.

This wouldn't be easy, for either of them, Bruce realized. He would have to be firm. Dick had always been endearing and he'd often give way to Dick's pleading. That couldn't happen now because it meant Dick's life. No matter what, he must remain unyielding. Bruce sighed and gently tousled Dick's hair. Dick might come to hate him for what he was about to do, but he must protect him at all costs. The pain he was about to cause both of him was worth it to keep Dick safe.


End file.
